coolsimper

Are you familiar with the words “Lazy Potato”?

In a world where strength determines status, Lucas Vance is an anomaly—a battle academy student with unrivaled talent who refuses to lift a finger. Dubbed the "Lazy Potato," he naps through combat training, dodges responsibilities, and only moves when his stomach demands food.

However, when a freak accident leaves the kingdom’s greatest warriors incapacitated, Lucas is forced (bribed with unlimited food) to step in as the last line of defense. Armed with overwhelming power he never uses, absurd luck, and an undying love for sleep, Lucas must navigate battles, assassins, and royal conspiracies—all while trying to maintain his nap schedule.

Can he save the kingdom without breaking a sweat? Or will he prove that true power comes… from doing absolutely nothing?

Life of a Lazy Potato

Lucas Vance had exactly 24 hours before his match with Dante Ravencroft.

They'd be training, strategizing, and mentally preparing for battle.

Claire kicked down the door to Lucas' dorm.

"LUCAS, WAKE UP!"

Claire stormed in, yanked his blanket, and shouted, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

Lucas, eyes still closed, muttered, "Recharging my energy."

Claire facepalmed. "You have a tournament fight in less than a day!"

Lucas finally opened one eye. "Yeah, yeah. It's fine."

Claire's eye twitched. "No, it's NOT fine. Dante has been training non-stop to crush you!"

Lucas yawned. "That's cool. I'll figure something out."

Claire inhaled deeply. Then, she grabbed his ankle and started dragging him across the floor.

Lucas flailed. "HEY—WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

"You're training. NOW."

Lucas found himself in the academy's training grounds, standing across from Claire.

She had two wooden swords in her hands.

"Alright," Claire said. "Let's start with some—"

Lucas held up a finger. "Wait. Before we begin—"

Claire narrowed her eyes. "What?"

Lucas pointed at a bench under a nice, shady tree.

"…Can we train over there?"

Claire looked like she wanted to strangle him. "NO. FIGHT ME."

Lucas… tripped on a rock, fell backward, and Claire's sword missed by an inch.

"…Huh," Lucas muttered. "See? Evasion skills—flawless."

Claire growled. "That wasn't skill. That was LUCK."

Lucas grinned. "Potato, potahto."

Instructor Roderick appeared, chuckling. "Looks like you're still alive, Lucas."

Lucas waved lazily. "Hey, Teach. Any chance we can cancel this tournament thing?"

Roderick smirked. "Not a chance. But I do have a special training plan… just for you."

Lucas narrowed his eyes. "I don't like how that sounds."

A group of six battle-hardened academy seniors appeared.

Lucas paled. "Uh. Who are they?"

Roderick grinned. "Your sparring partners."

"Nope. You're not escaping this one."

Lucas ducked (to pick up a snack he dropped).

The third warrior tried to grab him.

Lucas tripped, fell backward, and accidentally kicked the guy in the face.

"Is he… winning by accident?!"

Roderick laughed. "It's actually impressive. His instincts are perfect! Even if his brain isn't."

Lucas, still on the ground, groaned. "Can I go home now?"

The warriors all groaned in defeat.

Dante Ravencroft stood in the academy's secret training chamber.

His fists were wrapped in energy, his muscles coiled like a predator's.

A dozen training dummies surrounded him.

"That lazy fool won't know what hit him."

That night, Claire stood in front of Lucas' dorm.

Would he finally be taking this seriously?

She knocked. "Lucas?"

Claire sighed. "If he's sleeping, I swear—"

Lucas casually crunched another chip.

"YOU HAVE A FIGHT IN THE MORNING!"

Lucas nodded. "Yep."

Claire clenched her fists. "Why aren't you panicking?!"

"I got a strategy."

Claire crossed her arms. "Oh, really? What is it?"

"Step 1: Show up."

Chapter 6: Training? Nah, Napping.